


Retrieval

by ToxicPineapple



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Chihiro is (was) trans, Developing Relationship, Gen, Getting Memories Back, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Feelings, Introspection, Memories, Moving On, Past Character Death, Post-Game, Takes place sometime before DR2 and DR3 but after THH, Trauma, introspective, post-killing game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 19:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20917439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Kyoko, meanwhile, drags Makoto up to the fourth floor with purpose. She walks so quickly that they end up splitting from the rest of the group, so that it’s only them on the stairwells, walking up. Makoto can’t help looking around, at the large steel plates on the windows and the dusty railings and thinking about the weeks he spent trapped inside the academy. There were so many of them to begin with, and now…“It’ll be better when we get our memories back.” Kyoko tells him. “It’ll make more sense.”---When the survivors go back to Hope's Peak Academy three years after defeating Enoshima and ending their killing game, Makoto discovers that this wound is not yet completely scabbed over.





	Retrieval

Three years ago, Makoto quickly grabbed onto Kyoko’s hand as they stepped out of Hope’s Peak Academy, looking straight forward and not daring to look back.

  


It was a bit childish, but at the time Makoto felt that if he so much as dared glance at the building that they apparently hadn’t left in over a year, everything else would crumble to ashes behind him and he’d wake up in his room to the knowledge that the killing game  _ hadn’t  _ ended, and they were still trapped there, playing Junko Enoshima’s cruel game for the whole world to feel their despair.

  


In truth, he had no idea whether or not one or two of his classmates ended up peeking at the school as they walked out of it. Aoi could’ve looked back a thousand times, and in fact that seemed most likely considering the type of person that she was, but it didn’t make a difference to Makoto because they escaped. The Future Foundation was there, beyond the scary gatling gun security, with their helicopters and their black suits and their sunglasses, ready to take them away and wrap them in layers of blankets, both literal and metaphorical, and keep them safe.

  


As he fell asleep that night, at last in a room with walls that weren’t a red that burned his corneas, Makoto thought to himself that it was over. That no matter what else happened, at least he wouldn’t be doing a killing game. At least he’d have Kyoko at his side, knowing there was no mastermind trying to kill her, and knowing that Byakuya and Aoi and Toko and Yasuhiro, for all their faults, were his  _ friends,  _ and they had his back, no matter what. He didn’t even consider the possibility that he might end up going back in.

  


Yet there he is, standing in front of the school building, accompanied this time not only by his five friends, the other survivors, but also a large entourage of Future Foundation members, standing guard behind them and ready in case anything goes south. But Makoto knows that that isn’t going to happen. As the helicopter lifted off the ground three years ago, he caught a glimpse of that large metal door being swung closed before Hope’s Peak became a speck in the distance.

  


No, Makoto thinks. The only demons in that building are in his memories. And that’s exactly what they’re going back in for.

  


“It’s going to be fine.” Kyoko says, and she’s said it enough times that the words wouldn’t mean anything to him anymore if they were from anybody else. Makoto is a positive person, but recently reassurances have had a way of turning to mush in his brain when they’ve been repeated too often. He’s been blaming it on growing up, and becoming more skeptical (he’s twenty one, now; he couldn’t have kept that childish naivety forever) but part of him argues that that’s as a result of trauma. Even if he  _ is  _ the Ultimate Hope… there’s something really disgusting about watching how truly Junko Enoshima’s despair has infected the world around them. It’s affecting Makoto far more than he’d like to admit.

  


But it  _ is  _ Kyoko saying it, and Makoto knows that she, unlike almost anyone else, wouldn’t say it unless she truly believed it. They’re not here to solve a case- at least, not one where Kyoko would have to lie. They’re all on the same side this time. It’s them against whatever demons are lurking in the shadows in that building. And all of those demons will be in their head. The detective is certainly the best person to be giving reassurances right now, considering that she’s the most level-headed of the bunch.

  


“We’re going to get in and get out.” Kyoko continues, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. She’s got it braided down her back today, and it looks very nice, but there are a couple pieces of hair loose that Makoto can’t help noticing. She clearly notices them too, or else she wouldn’t be messing with them while she speaks. “No need to waste time on things that don’t matter. Remember, we only have one goal.”

  


“Our memories,” Makoto supplies, and Kyoko nods her head, rewarding him with a rare smile that says she’s glad he’s on track of things. He returns the expression, but can’t help feeling a bit anxious anyway. Even if everything goes as smoothly as Kyoko just described, it’s not like this is going to be okay either way. They’re going to walk right through that final trial room. They’ll be able to smell the remains of Junko’s rotting corpse underneath the press, see the old blood crusted on the floor where it splattered three years ago. Just thinking about it makes his stomach flip.

  


“Their bodies, too,” Aoi reminds softly, and when Makoto looks at her, she’s looking at the ground. “Sakura’s been in that freezer for so long…” she trails off and shivers, hugging herself, and Makoto finds himself reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. It makes him feel sick to his stomach too, thinking about how everybody- Chihiro, Kiyotaka, Mondo, Celeste, Sakura,  _ Sayaka-  _ has been there, preserved, for so long, after the gruesome deaths they met at the hands of Enoshima’s killing game. He doesn’t like thinking about it, and yet, standing in front of the school, he sort of has to.

  


“Whatever happens, we’ve got you guys covered.” One of the agents tells them- a tall, thin woman with dusty brown hair. Makoto’s never seen her eyes before, but she has a kind smile, and he likes her a lot. She’s amiable, and volunteers for a lot of these missions, to have their backs. There are a number of agents who are like her, and many of them are here, but Makoto doesn’t know them well enough, even after three years, to recognise them on sight.

  


“Right, right, that’s all good and well,” Byakuya looks irritated. “But all this would be a lot easier if we actually just went inside.”

  


He’s right, so, without any further delays, they enter the building.

  


Makoto’s hand finds Kyoko’s again, just as it did when they left, and she glances at him but allows him to hold onto her, squeezing his hand like she needs it too. Aoi and Yasuhiro split off to go the freezer where the bodies have been kept, accompanied by a large group of other Foundation members. Byakuya is joined enthusiastically by Toko to search a different part of the school than Kyoko and Makoto. It seems even now they have their old rivalry.

  


Kyoko, meanwhile, drags Makoto up to the fourth floor with purpose. She walks so quickly that they end up splitting from the rest of the group, so that it’s only them on the stairwells, walking up. Makoto can’t help looking around, at the large steel plates on the windows and the dusty railings and thinking about the weeks he spent trapped inside the academy. There were so many of them to begin with, and now…

  


“It’ll be better when we get our memories back.” Kyoko tells him. “It’ll make more sense.”

  


And it seems reasonable that she would be thinking that way, after what happened to her… out of everybody, Enoshima really did her worst on Kyoko. Taking her memories of her talent, which was a fundamental part of who she was. Makoto can’t even imagine how it must have felt waking up sitting in the desk three years ago, not knowing anything but very basic details about her identity. Knowing she was a student at Hope’s Peak, but not what her talent was, or why she was supposed to be there. She probably didn’t even remember her father. And the thought of it makes him sad, because Enoshima took away Kyoko’s memories of reuniting with Jin Kirigiri before gifting her his remains in a wrapped box.

  


When Makoto squeezes her hand, Kyoko stops walking, looking back at him with a furrowed brow. “Am I walking too fast? You should say so if I am rather than just-”

  


“No, it’s fine.” Makoto smiles slightly, and can’t help saying, “I’m just glad that it’s you who’s here with me. I don’t think I could do this with anyone else.”

  


Kyoko gives him a long, silent look, and then turns to face him entirely, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to his forehead. It isn’t that they’re together, or anything, but she’s been known to do things like that on occasion… at any rate it makes Makoto’s face burn and she barely acknowledges it, turning around and starting back up the stairs. “You’d be fine,” she throws over her shoulder, and they arrive at the fourth floor. Kyoko doesn’t waste any time pulling him towards the room where Enoshima stayed the whole time that she had them trapped. “I think you’re perfectly strong with or without me.”

  


And she’s wrong about that, in so many ways. Makoto feels as though without her there knowing all the answers, and reassuring him in that calm, factual way that she’s always done, he wouldn’t have been able to survive Enoshima. She saved his life in that game, after all. He tightens his grip on her hand very slightly thinking about how Enoshima was planning on killing him and framing Kyoko- how he almost exposed her and got her executed for a crime she didn’t commit. A crime that had already been committed, before their very eyes.

  


(Makoto hopes that, when they get their memories back, he’ll receive good memories of Mukuro Ikusaba, as well. Memories that paint her as the person that she was when he knew her as Junko. Fresh and funny and observant and straightforward. Makoto liked that version of Junko Enoshima. And if it was truly such a bad imitation… then maybe it was more like talking to Mukuro than it was like talking to Junko.)

  


“Is this where our memories are?” Makoto asks as Kyoko releases his hand and opens the door with Monokuma’s face on it. It swings open with a light touch from Kyoko and she gives a very small triumphant smile before stepping in.

  


“That’s my deduction. She wouldn’t put them somewhere within our reach.” Kyoko explains. “My theory is that she used some sort of radio wave technology to suppress our memories. It’s obvious that she didn’t take them away permanently.”

  


“It is?” Makoto pauses, thinking. “Oh! You mean, Yamada…”

  


“That’s right.” Kyoko nods, kneeling in front of the panel on the floor that leads to where Enoshima would hide. She brushes a few pieces of hair behind her ear again before reaching to pull it open. After a moment, though, she gives up and sits back, looking up at Makoto. “Here, you open it.”

  


“Huh? Why?” Makoto asks, though he’s already dropping down onto his knees to open it for her.

  


“Well, you’re a boy, right? You can do it.” Kyoko always says those things and he’s really not sure if she’s serious about it. It’s been three years! Surely he would’ve figured out by now how to tell when she’s joking? But no, he still has absolutely no clue. Kyoko’s lips quirk up into a smile as he pulls the door open, though, so he figures she’s messing with him. He doesn’t complain, though, because in all honesty he really doesn’t mind. He likes helping her out with things, even if they’re kind of stupid like this is.

  


Kyoko climbs down into the compartment, and Makoto considers following her but decides after a moment that it must be a bit cramped down there, so instead he waits for Kyoko to reemerge or tell him something. He peeks into the hole in the floor while he waits, though, and watches her rummaging around. When she climbs back up, she has a laptop tucked under her arm, and Makoto takes it from her so that she can pull herself back up into the computer room. When she does, she closes the compartment door, and then takes the laptop back to open it.

  


She pulls a bundle of cord from her pocket and Makoto realises that’s probably the charger for the laptop as she gets to her feet and finds an outlet. Once the laptop is plugged in, she opens it and powers it on. Predictably, the laptop opens up to a lock screen, where a password is to be inputted.

  


After a moment of silence, Kyoko types into the laptop, and it unlocks. “How did you figure that out?” Makoto gasps, staring with wide eyes at the screensaver, which is a picture of Enoshima and a girl with black hair and freckles- her sister, Mukuro.

  


“I guessed.” Kyoko shrugs. “The password was  _ despair.” _

  


“Oh.” Makoto blinks. “That feels… obvious, though?”

  


“Right. Enoshima probably thought that people would expect something more complicated from the Ultimate Analytical Prowess,” Kyoko explains, double clicking one of the icons on Enoshima’s laptop. “It’s a smart password, really.” Then, with a small, smug smile, Kyoko adds, “But I’m smarter.”

  


Makoto can’t help laughing and shaking his head as Kyoko pulls up a video. She stares at it for a moment, and then turns the laptop so that he can’t see the screen.

  


“I think I know what this is but I’m going to watch it first and see.” Kyoko explains, in response to Makoto’s baffled look. “If it’s not, and I end up talking about despair or trying to hurt myself, stop me. Harshly.” She sounds dead serious, even though Makoto isn’t really sure how that’s possible. He nods, though, because he trusts her.

  


He can’t see any of the video, because Kyoko did a good job shielding it from him, but he can see the light flashing on Kyoko’s face. In her eyes. It’s a bit anticlimactic, but colourful too; pale blues and pinks flash in her eyes and Makoto raises his eyebrows, wondering exactly what kind of video she’s watching right now.

  


And then, the lights stop flashing, and Kyoko blinks slowly, closing her eyes and putting a hand on her temple.

  


“Kirigiri…?” Makoto reaches out to touch her shoulder, but she holds up a hand, stopping him.

  


“Give me a minute.” She instructs, and so he pulls back his hand, but looks at her in concern. Her expression is blank but there’s a small crease in between her eyebrows that makes Makoto’s heart lurch. Does her head hurt? What’s going on? Did something go wrong? She opens her eyes again, staring at him, and he’s startled to see they’re a bit tearful. But not swirly or despairful, like Enoshima’s were before she died, so… maybe it’s okay? “I’m fine now. I was right, though” Kyoko tells him, then turns the laptop to face him. “Here. Watch it.”

  


“Did you get your memories back?” Makoto asks, though he rests his hand on the mousepad, ready to comply. Kyoko gives him a flat look, and he gets the message, turning his gaze to the laptop screen and tapping the play button with his index finger.

  


He doesn’t really know what he sees on that screen. An old blend of colours and lights, bending and twisting together in a big colourful mess. His head starts pounding almost immediately, and then he understands why Kyoko was holding her temple, and then he stops thinking entirely. It feels as though there’s a pressure on the inside of his skull, trying to pry his head open from the inside. Makoto struggles to keep his eyes open while he winces, biting the inside of his cheek. That  _ hurts. _

  


Right when he thinks that, the video cuts off, it feels as though there’s a sharp spike of pain through the back of his skull, and he falls forward.

  


_ “You’re so formal, Naegi! You can call me Sayaka, you know!” _

  


_ “Listen, Naegi… what I told you about Kenshiro… I’ve never told anybody else that before.” _

  


_ “Naegi, uhm, I… I just wanted you to know that I’m… I’m actually trans.” _

  


_ “Don’t think anything of this, I’m only helping you because we’re classmates… honestly, Naegi, you’re such a beta boy. I bet you totally want a girl who would dominate you!” _

  


A hand on his shoulder helps Makoto connect the warped voices that he’s suddenly hearing, bouncing around his skull, with his current situation. He’s sitting on the floor in the computer lab at his school (not his school, his former prison) in front of a laptop. The hand on his shoulder is Kyoko’s. He’s here with the Future Foundation. He’s a member of the Future Foundation.

  


Sayaka and Chihiro and everyone else are dead.

  


“Naegi, are you okay?” Kyoko’s voice stabilises him a little bit more, and he looks over at her, unable to stop himself from tearing up a bit when their eyes meet.

  


“Kyoko,” he chokes out, and she blinks at him, as though unaffected by the use of her given name. It doesn’t make a difference right now. “Did you- Did you also-”

  


“I remember,” Kyoko says quietly. She reaches out and takes his hand, intertwining their fingers. “Everything.”

  


And Makoto can’t help but think back to the moment when Hifumi died, cradled against Aoi’s chest. The tearful, warm manner with which he addressed all of them. Somehow, he knew Celeste’s real name. Now Makoto understands. She had told all of them. (But most of all, Makoto thinks… she told  _ him.) _

  


And Sayaka…

  


_ “Listen, Naegi, whatever happens, I’m going to have your back. As your assistant or otherwise. We’re best friends, right?” _

  


He can’t stop thinking about them. He only just started to be  _ able  _ to think about them.

  


_ “Naegi! You advised me about video games thus I require your assistance once again! I, uhm, I think I’m- I think I’m falling in love with my bro?” _

  


_ “Man, this isn’t fair. Why don’t I ever get crushes on ugly girls? Why do I have to like someone as out of my league as Maizono? Dude…” _

  


Aoi and Byakuya and Toko and Yasuhiro, too… Makoto swallows down a lump in his throat, and Kyoko squeezes his hand tighter. If he knew that it would be okay, he’d hug her right now, tight enough that he could forget everything else and just pretend that they’re still with their classmates, laughing and planning pranks on their upperclassmen. He could pretend that Mukuro never became an enigma, that she was still the impassive girl who returned his smiles in the hallways, and that Junko was never the Ultimate Despair, and she was just… his slightly annoying, slightly mean, slightly degrading friend Junko.

  


As things as, though, he’s worried to hug Kyoko without asking, and he doesn’t think he can speak, so he just closes his eyes and bows his head. One of Kyoko’s hands grips his shoulder, and it seems she doesn’t have the same qualms as he does, because she pulls him close.

  


While she hugs him, and he tries not to cry into her shoulder, Makoto thinks,  _ I understand now.  _ He understands why their memories had to be erased. Because if they had remembered each other, and the love they had for each other… nobody would’ve died. They would’ve stayed in that school, together, until the end of time. Until Junko inevitably got bored and found some other way to cause despair.

  


And they’re still all dead. Makoto chokes on a breath and squeezes his eyes shut, allowing a couple tears to escape.

  


(While he shakes in her arms, Kyoko thinks that it would probably be best if they headed back to the others now to share their findings. But when she takes a look at Makoto, the way that his face is contorted in pain, she knows that she can’t. She knows that she’s going to sit here holding him until it all feels numb, and he can get up and start moving again, and the sacrifice of all nine of their friends won’t be in vain.)

**Author's Note:**

> mmmm I love me some first game angst
> 
> Naegiri is so good and I don't write them nearly as much as I should tbh. writing Kyoko??? amazing. my skin??? clear. my crops????? flourishing.
> 
> so anyway,,, it's past midnight but I was like. :// bitch if u don't finish this tonight you never will
> 
> so I just wrote it all
> 
> anyway hope u enjoyed xd


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